


Mistletoe & Mischief

by Measured



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And everything would have gone as planned, except for a drink that came from Begnion,  a little parasitic plant with white berries, and one troublesome thief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe & Mischief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Prince/gifts).



> Thanks to my beta for the proofread.

The coldness had set in late in Crimea. Melior was hit with a gentle dusting of snow just in time for the end-of-year celebrations. She never wanted to be known as the queen who threw balls while her people starved, but with a season so dark and bleak, it seemed cruel to cancel the festivities. It would be scaled back, of course. A modest affair that spanned all the way out, from noble to commoner, laguz to beorc. Everyone would be welcome, and this winter perhaps there wouldn't be an air of despondence, a fear of war.

And everything would have gone as planned, except for a drink that came from Begnion, a little parasitic plant with white berries, and one troublesome thief.

*

The preparations had gone smoothly. The decor was mostly plants with affordable red ribbons festooned over the walls. The rooms smelled of pine, and the branches offered some lingering hope. Even in the coldest part of the year, there would be greenery to remember spring by.

Elincia had been downing more and more of the sweet drink, which was made of eggs, apparently, and had a thick milky texture with a hint of nutmeg. The name escaped her, but it did wonders for her nerves, leaving her relaxed and happy. Even the duke beside her, who was notoriously dull and prone to going on and on, had suddenly become full of sparkling wit. She found herself laughing at his brilliance again and again. Whatever kind maker had devised this drink, she felt grateful.

She felt a hand upon her shoulder, and saw Bastian.

"Forgive my intrusion, but I must steal away our dear queen and whisper a word in her ear," Bastian said.

He pulled her away before the other duke could protest. They went past performers, the ladies and nobility, and the guard to a more quiet corner outside the grand hall. Everything was dizzy and bright, and it made her feel suddenly giddy and giggly.

"My sweet dove," Bastian said, using her childhood nickname. "You are much too naive and full of that spirit-touched drink to see that man's a rogue in priest's garb."

Bastian had a way with words, that was sure. Though at times, even when her mind didn't suddenly feel cloudy, he could be a mite bit confusing.

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand–"

"As usual, he's making the most simple things complicated. He's saying the drink was spiked," said a voice. She turned to see Lucia walking in, dressed in her battle attire. The guard had kept on their armor and robes, and yet Lucia wore hers with as much grace as the best made evening gown.

"You wound me, my beloved roe," Bastian said.

She gave him an appraising, even cynical glance. "I hardly think a talented statesmen such as yourself would be cut with a mere word."

"But ah, the quality of the word, and its holder," Bastian said.

"Spiked?" she said. The thought of such a warm, smooth drink being sharp was somehow amusing. She found herself laughing, and then tottering, only to be caught in Lucia's arms. She leaned into Lucia's body, firm yet soft. It seemed fitting to rest her head against Lucia's full breasts, for it felt exactly as warm and fluffy inside as she felt.

However, even through the haze, decorum got the better of her.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to be so clumsy–" She pushed her hair out of her face where it had messily come unpinned and fallen all about.

"No need to ever apologize in such company, my queen," Bastian said. "Especially not to her, one as close as a blood sister and twice as dear."

"She has had at least four glasses that I saw," Lucia said.

"And by the duke's intentions, she would have had many more," Bastian said.

"Yes, there is something to be said about _dukes_ and their intentions," Lucia said.

"Ah, you are so fierce, and yet so sweet–"

"But there's no time for banter," Lucia said, cutting short his declaration. Bastian's declarations had been known to last as much as an hour or more, depending how much wine or passion he had at the moment.

"There've been reports of a thief in the halls," Lucia said.

"A rogue? Have you doubled the guards?" Bastian said, for once poetry taking its leave.

"Of course," Lucia said. "However...this thief hasn't been stealing jewels, but kisses. Several ladies, members of the female guard, female members of the mercenary troupes and the Greil Mercenary's tactician have all reported being suddenly kissedafter having a certain plant put over their head."

One of these did not match the others, she thought.

"Soren?" Elincia's brown furrowed. "But he's...."

"I believe he was a mistake," Lucia said dryly. "Considering the rest of the people taken in by this kissing bandit. However, I can report that he–and commander Ike, at that–were none too happy with the results."

"And you fear she may be after the queen?" Bastian said in hushed tones.

"More than fear. The minute they mentioned her I remembered the rogue in question. She was under my command earlier this year on the assault, and openly talked of Queen Elincia in a most adoring way," Lucia said.

"More adoration than what a countryman should feel for their beloved queen?" Bastian said.

"More indeed. I think it's best that you retire to your chambers, my queen," Lucia said.

"It's probably a harmless prank," Elincia said. "I mean, really, a kissing bandit? It sounds like the work of a drunken fool."

"Whether it is mere jest or not, you mustn't fall into her hands," Lucia said. Lucia turned towards Bastian, and Elincia noticed she was still in Lucia's arms, bolstered by her closest...it was a nice feeling.

"Bastian, send for guards to be stationed around the queen's chambers," Lucia said.

Bastian nodded. "And I shall be off, as with the wings of the goddess on—"

"No monologues, please. Not until the queen is safe," Lucia said.

"At once, my dear," Bastian said. He gave a final bow, and hurried off down the corridor.

She pulled Elincia away through the corridors. The night had grown chillier, and through the windows she could see the lights of the city, all splendor and beauty.

"We've really found peace, haven't we Lucia?" Elincia said. She was quiet, as if she didn't dare to hope. "Oh, Lucia—"

"Yes, Elincia. I think we have. At least for now, there's no telling..."

She leaned more on Lucia. It was warmer there, comforting, soft. She could just watch the outside. Really, the thief was just some silly prank, and Lucia would never let her come to harm. Really, she should—

"What a lovely scene. I almost feel bad interrupting it."

The thief stepped out from behind a pillar. Elincia had a faint recognition, she'd been in the war—and had stuck out for the many times she'd been seen flirting about. Elincia had to admit the woman was a beauty, with long, lithe body which was curvy enough to rival Lucia's voluptuousness. But was truly captivating about her was her gaze. She was just so utterly _brazen_ , crooking her finger in a _come-hither_ gesture and smiling like she knew she would be the winner. Elincia felt hot under the skin at that, at the way the thief seemed to be undressing her with her eyes–to borrow a phrase she'd overheard one of the servants use.

Lucia stepped in front of her and drew her sword.

"Really, Lucia, she was among the army, I doubt she means any harm–"

"I won't let her touch you," Lucia said in a low, cold voice which did strange things to Elincia's hazy mind. Or, to be more precise, to her body.

"Ooh, you hold your sword well," the thief said. She came a bit closer, her footsteps echoing through the hall.

"Even if we were on the same side during the war, I won't hesitate to strike if you threaten my queen," Lucia said.

"I wouldn't expect anything less. And really, 'my queen'? Loyalty is such a _becoming_ trait, and you really wear it well," she said. "Actually, you're plenty cute too..."

She held up a little plant and grinned. "This is such a magical plant. I'm quite fond of it. You see, every person who gets caught under it has to kiss–no exceptions. Well, I'm of the belief that one makes their own luck, so I managed to steal a bit of good cheer for myself."

All the while she was walking closer, closer and holding up that plant.

"Care for a kiss?"

"I won't hold back," Lucia said. She gripped the sword tightly now, her body had become a wall in front of her. She held on to Lucia's arm. Her mind felt slightly less hazy now.

"Don't, Lucia, she's just being, well, merry," Elincia protested. "A bit of silliness never hurt anyone. She isn't even robbing anyone of anything–except maybe a bit of honor and dignity," Elincia said. She couldn't help giggling a bit at that one.

"Those are things which I won't let her steal from you," Lucia said. She raised her sword until it was level with the thief's chest.

"Ooh, kinky. Let's dance!"

And suddenly it came to her. Heather, that was her name. Heather, a girl who had dreams of bringing back money for her mother, who liked to flirt and was confident and smart. Her haze was cut through immediately as the image came to mind of what might happen, should this go any further. She'd already come close to losing Lucia once, and now her mind was filled with possibilities. Heather impaled on Lucia's sword, gasping her last breath as no cleric was close enough to heal her wounds. Lucia crumbling to the ground as Heather pulled her blade from her back.

She couldn't take losing another person.

Heather ducked the first swing, and the second. She ducked the thrust of Lucia's sword, missing each strike effortlessly. She was teasing Lucia, that much was obvious. And yet, what if it went further than teasing, what if they ended up tearing each other apart, and with it the fragile happiness and peace she had wrested from the grips of Ashnard?

 

"Lucia—! _Heather!_ I command you to stop!"

Whatever other glancing blow was frozen, skidded aside as Lucia caught the sound of Elincia's voice, stilling for just a moment, and just long enough for Heather to swoop in...and kiss her. She took Lucia's face in both hands and Elincia was struck by what a beautiful image it was. But she didn't have long to think on that, for soon in the wake of Lucia's post-kiss daze, Heather was coming closer and then she was there, holding the plant right over Elincia's head.

For a moment all she saw was the pretty plant up above her, and then Heather near, so beautiful and confident and sensual. She'd never been kissed before, but it hit her like a bolt of energy, tingly and warm. But all too soon she was breaking away, breaking contact and then disappearing into the shadows. Elincia looked after her, feeling as dazed as if she had drunk more of the egg-drink.

The plant lay abandoned on the floor. She bent to pick it, and Lucia was beside her.

"She—"

"Meant no harm," Elincia said with a little smile. "And I'm fine. Better than fine, really...so don't worry about me, Lucia."

 

*

She woke with a pounding in her head. Suddenly she wasn't quite so fond of the maker of the drink. She'd never been drunk in court before, her only experience being the time Lucia stole a bottle of Bastian's wine and they drunk themselves sick. She smiled at the memory of Lucia's precocious youth.

But it only made the pain come worse, radiating through her head.

"Did I make a fool out of myself?" She croaked. Each word was agony in her head, sending flashes of pain cascading through her head. She had pulled the thick blankets of green and gold over her head to try and block out the light.

"No," Lucia said.

Elincia groaned and held her head under the covers. It didn't help.

"Perhaps we can make a version of that lovely drink which doesn't leave me like this. The mistletoe can stay, though. I didn't mind that at all." The last was said dreamily, and from under her blanket she couldn't see how Lucia froze, her fist curling into a ball beside her.

 

*

The escapades of the so-called 'kissing bandit' had become the best gossip of the season. The thing was, from the lucky many who had been kissed, these tales were related with flushed cheeks, dreamy moments and perhaps even hopeful glances to the side for a handsome rogue who would come and sweep them off their feet like their paramours never had just one more time.

On the other side of the castle, the sole exception had been in a black mood, even more than usual. He even brought his tomes to the mess hall, something he hadn't done since his slightly more sullen teen years.

"Aww, our Soren finally became a man," Gatrie said, for even despite his and Shinon's mutual hangovers, they couldn't resist crawling out just for this.

Soren looked up from his tome and rolled his eyes. "If you look at the evidence, you'll see that she mistook me for the exact opposite."

Shinon would have remarked with some scathing word, but he had fallen into a full body laughter, which turned into spasms of pain. Soren barely spared him a dour look before returning his attentions to his book.

Outside, a thin layer of snow was steadily falling, obscuring the tracks of a thief who'd come and gone, taking only hearts with her, and leaving the jewels and coins where they rested for another day, another plunder.


End file.
